


Death Dance

by niamosaur



Series: nightingales on paper [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niamosaur/pseuds/niamosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dance Niall should have just declined . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Dance

I knew I shouldn't have come here.

I knew I should've just stayed in my house and indulged myself with cookies and a warm cup of chocolate. But unfortunately, this stupid senior prom was compulsory – I have no say whatsoever on attending it. Damn it.

I huffed as I barged out of the gym where the masquerade-themed party was being held, tears stinging my eyes. The cold night winter air immediately stung my face, but I didn't care. This was better than having to be ignored as if you weren't even alive. The ground was layered in a thin sheet of snow on which I trudged on, crisp beneath my feet. I took a seat on a wooden bench right behind a leafless tree with fairy lights spiraled around it. Sighing, I bowed my head, regretting every single second of this night – or, well, every single second of my whole life.

Of course this night had gone wrong. What had I honestly expected? That my peers would finally accept me for who I am? For being gay? I laughed bitterly as I re-adjusted my light blue masquerade mask.

I've been attending to this stupid school for over six years, and all I’ve really received was words that stung at me every time.

They were narrow-minded gits, is what they are.

I mean, sure, I was different. Sure I liked guys, and that’s unnatural for a boy to say. But really, were those things, those traits that made me different and an outsider, were they enough for my classmates to treat me the way they do? Were they enough reasons to make them hate me? They look at me as if I was the most disgusting creature alive.

After years of being treated like absolute crap, you'd expect me to somehow get used to it. I didn't. Every time they'd go the other way, or turn their heads in disgust, or slap the fact right in my face that I was a work of crap, it would still inflict a new, fresh wound. Every day I'd still go home broken.

That's why I got out of the gym, because I needed to get away. It was too much.

"Hi."

I whipped my head to the boy standing right in front of me. He was beautiful.

Perfect sharp features, pink plump lips and gorgeous brown eyes that were bordered by a simple black masquerade mask. The black suit and tie he wore made him look extremely smart and hot, and his serious expression only added to his appeal.

Who was he?

I mentally shook my head disapprovingly.

He was gorgeous, yes, but that's exactly why he won't like me. He's too perfect and I'm too below-normal. He’s probably straight.

"Hi," I muttered, hopefully as equally as emotionless as he had greeted me.

"Can I . . . ?" He motioned to the open seat beside me.

"Oh, yeah, sure," I said as I scooted to the side to give him more space.

Silence overtook us once he slid beside me. It was a small bench, so I was painfully aware of our close distance -- only about a centimeter of space separating us. I could still hear the soft hum of the slow music coming from the gym, but other than that, it was dead silent.

In hopes of ignoring the gorgeous stranger beside me, I took interest on the paint of breath that I elicited in front of my face. I wondered how it felt like to just float into the cold air and disappear, leaving no trace whatsoever. I imagined myself being the mist, letting everything loose and just enjoying my freedom.

"So, what's your name?" the stranger asked over the silence. His voice was steady and confident, oddly unperturbed by the chilling coldness. Didn't he feel cold, just wearing a suit outside? I sure as hell am. I rubbed my hands over the sleeves of my suit.

"Niall," I looked at him, and he gave me a smile so small it could've just been me and my silly hallucinations.

"Liam."

Silence again.

I withdrew my eyes from him, but I could still feel his on me. I felt uneasy and fidgety under his gaze.

"So, you wanna dance?" Shocked, I looked at him. I reran his words in my head, either trying to test my comprehension or his mentality, I didn't know.

Why on earth would somebody as beautiful as him want to dance with a loser like me?

"Do you want to dance?" he asked again, this time standing in front of me and holding a hand out. My eyes widened.

Maybe this was a prank set up by my classmates. Yeah. That's got to be it. Why else would he want to dance with me?

I looked into his eyes, and I saw something indescribable, something I can't put my fingers on. Something that made me feel weak. My thoughts began to scramble. I had no idea where nor how it came to be, but I found myself nodding softly, dropping my coat and taking his hand. I had to swallow the gasp that threatened to fall from my lips. His hands were unbelievably cold, icy cold. Maybe it's just from being out here for too long . . . ?

Liam pulled me close until our chests were flushed together, snaking an arm around my waist while the other's fingers interlaced themselves with mine. I awkwardly placed my free hand on his shoulder.

It was a bit weird, really, this dancing thing. Never been a fan of graceful movements. But who am I to complain when gorgeous Liam was my partner? Exactly.

But there was something nagging at me at the back of my mind. Telling me that this was wrong, all wrong. Although being here with Liam was too right for me to even question anything about it, I've got to admit, something was strange about him. It was the fact that I've never seen him before, or even heard of him. This was a small town; everybody knows everybody. Almost no one moves in here, what with its secluded location and all. And when one does move here, it's a known fact that the news would've reached everybody's ear within mere hours. Then why hadn't I heard of Liam?

My thoughts went into a bizarre frenzy as we began to sway our bodies in sync, guided by the soft music erupting from the gym. Our eyes were locked, faces so close his addictive breath was fanning over my lips.

I knew that brown eyes were very common, but there was something in his that would force you to just look at them and forget about everything else. It was un-pinpoint-able, but it was definitely there, the flare.

I was lost in a world where only he and I existed. Only he and I shared. We weren't even listening to the music anymore. We only moved our bodies at a steady pace, our feet soundlessly padding the ground.

All the while, I admired his fluid movements as we wafted smoothly in the night. Bits of snowflakes were falling over us, making the moment a little bit more perfect. I relished in this small moment of happiness, even if it was just for a few minutes.

It had been so long since I last felt this happy. Was this feeling even classified as mere happiness? My heart racing, butterflies in my stomach, my mind whirred in a huge clump of blurred thoughts . . .

It sounded so cheesy, and I know that it's only been a few minutes, but that was how I felt at the moment.

It was something more, I knew it. There was something more. Glee? Ecstasy? No. This feeling runs much deeper, much more composed and yet I couldn't grasp it.

I didn't realize we had stopped, and that both of Liam's hands were now on my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his unnaturally cold neck. He looked directly into my eyes, face dead serious, and I felt as though he was browsing through my entire life. Each secret, every memory -- vague and vivid -- that were still lodged in my mind. It seemed as if he was analyzing every single detail . . .

And I let him.

I only stared back at Liam, loving how the brown of his eyes shone under the fairy lights. How the orange glow accented his perfect features. He was beyond gorgeous.

Then he was leaning in, and my heart began to race quicker than would've been possible. My head was spinning with an endless line of whirring thoughts. I let my eyes flutter close.

I've always imagined how a kiss felt like. Amazing? Perfect? Our lips moving together in sync as wave after wave of tingles and goosebumps rippled through my body?

Well, it was none of the sort.

Instead, a searing pain shot through my neck as his impossibly large canines pierced through my skin. My eyes flew open, a silent scream trying to escape my mouth. I could feel him sucking my vital fluid hungrily, the grip on my hip tightening. My hands were on his shoulders, loosely clutching them.

My body was weakening by the second, either from the excruciating pain or the loss of blood, I'd never know.

The world around me began to spin, my vision beginning to blur. So this was how I was going to die? Not even with a fight? I thought it didn't matter. It's not that I'm actually living for something anyway, or that I'm going to leave something or someone behind -- except perhaps, my existence.

My ruined dreams, my broken family, my so-called friends? They didn't matter anymore. Liam was actually doing me a favor.

I felt like my whole life was flashing before my eyes in a speed that made the memories a blur of colors and emotions.

The pain was all over my body now, every inch of me feeling like they were being burned. My skin throbbed hotly while my insides felt like sludge. I grew limp in Liam's arms.

Well, looking at the bright side, at least my cause of death would be, "Sucked to death by Liam the Gorgeous." Nifty, eh?

But before my mind could wander any further, everything was dark.


End file.
